The Abbeville messenger. (Abbeville, S.C.) 1884-1887, 1887-01-11
"The Quickest yyay.v

Clara Doty Bates.
"The Quickest Way"
IL. Brown wanted n boy. Charlie
tones wanted the place. lie was told
10 put a screw in the gate hinge.
" h, yes, I can do thatl" And he
seized a hammer and gave the screw two
or three hard whacks.
"stopl stopl that is not the way"
"That is the quickest way"
But the quickest way is not always
the right way. want no boy who puts
in screws with a hammer"
. There arc a great many boys who
drive screws with a hammer, and a great
many places that do not want them for
hat reason. There are Charles and
Marys who will learn their lessons tho
| quickest way" instead of the right way.
And in everything, whether it is running
an GRAND, sewing a seam, or, Us they
become older, doing more important
things, they are not content with the
slower but surer way of one patient turn
after another. They skim over the les
; son, and then try to make up brilliant
answers in class, or double the thread
and take one stitch where they should
be three, or dash off be fore they half
half understand what it is about or how
wdat they say is going to sound. No
boy or girl who drives screws with a
hammer can succeed. -Norning Guide.
The Cattle Train.
Somewhere above Fitchburg, as we
stopped for 90 minutes at a station, !
amused myself by looking out of a win
dow at a waterfall which came tumblina
over the rocks, and spread into Il wide
pool that flowed up to the railway. Close
by stood acattlc train; and the mournful
sounds that came from it touched nv
heart.
Full in the hot sun stood the cars; and
every crcvice of room between the bars
across the doorways was filed with
pathetic noses, shifting eagerly at the
sultry gusts that blew by, with now and
then a frcshcr breath from the pool that
lay dimpling before them. How they
must have suffered, in sight of water,
with the cool dash of the fall tantaliz-
ing them, and not a drop to wet their
poor parched mouthsl
The cattle lowed dismally, and the
sheep tumbled one over the other in their
frantic attempts to reach the blessed
Dir, bleating SO plaintivcly the while
that I was tempted to go out and see
what l could do for them. But the
time was nearly up; and, while I hest
tated, two little girls appeared, and did
the kind deed better than 1 could have
done it.
! could no hear what they said; but,
as they worked away SO heartily, their
little tanncd faces grew lovely to me, in
spite of their old hats, their bare feet,
and their shabby gowns. One pulled
off her apron, spread it on the grass, and,
emptying u3on it the berries from her
pail, ran to the pool and returned with
it dripping, to hold it up to the suffer-
ing sheep, who stretched their hot
tongues gratefully to meet it, and Tapped
the precious wafer with an eagcrness
that made little Barefoot's task n hard
one.
But to and fro she ran, never tired,
though the small pail was so soon
empty; and her friend meanwhile pulled
great hundfuls of clover and grass for
the cows, and, having no pail, filled her
''picking dish' with water to throw on
the poor dusty noses appealing to her
through the bars. I wish I could have
told those tender-heartod children how
beautiful their compassion made that
hot, noisy place, and what a sweet pic
ture I took away with me of those two